


Love Letters from a Dragon

by Saucy_Beans (QuillHeart)



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Flirting, BDSM Scene, Burnish Powers, Character Study, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Flirting, Gueira is a Sweetheart, High Heels, Honestly the theme of this is intimacy and connection in the Mad Max wasteland, Kissing, Lolita Lio, M/M, Mad Burnish (Promare), Pillow Talk, Playful Sex, Porn With Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Size Kink, Stockings, Top Gueira, Top Meis, bottom Lio, breeding and pregnancy kink, exploring kinks, innocence and debauchery, internalized burnish phobia, undernegotiated kinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillHeart/pseuds/Saucy_Beans
Summary: Lio likes to take care of his men, and if that means having a sexual roleplay weekend at an abandoned upscale resort with Gueira and Meis, while dressed up as a lost, innocent, prim little lolita the big bad bikers found on the side of a foggy mountain road one night, then so be it. He will patiently uncover their fears and fantasies with his body, and hold them tenderly in his lace-covered hands until they burn down, sweating and panting against him, to nothing.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Gueira, Lio Fotia/Gueira/Meis, Lio Fotia/Meis
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. Stray Sugarplum 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have discovered my job in this fandom and it's to write Lio/Gueira. Niche: achieved.
> 
> Lio's drag persona is referred to as female, but when he drops it (either accidentally or on purpose), but is still in the scene, the persona is referred to as "she", with quotation marks. 
> 
> Enjoy~!

The abandoned camping complex was surrounded by a thick, cold fog. The many towering pines cast long shadows at the best of times, soaking up the sound in the rise and fall of the rocky hills and leaving the mountain eerily quiet. But now, it felt like breath of Boreas himself had come to wrap itself around them, trapping the Burnish and his precious mortal cargo in a chilly blanket.

The man, at least, had a leather jacket and jeans on, with boots and gloves and even a helmet. The girl hugged to his back, however, was dressed in nothing but thin white lace and fluffy tulle. The lace, in snowflake and rose patterns, hugged her legs and arms and throat like tattooed scripture, and the tulle in her skirt floated around her slender hips and stocking-clad thighs like so many layers of cloud. A tight bodice of brocade and silky white ribbon ties shone in the light of the motorcycle’s headlights, floral pattern glinting like a kaleidoscope as the yellow light bounced every which way and trapped them in a snow globe of light.

The big black hell-machine’s purring engine rumbled into idle, and then Gueira set down the silver kickstand shimmering a rainbow of dark fire and let his flames release. With a whoosh, heat bloomed up around them like a giant’s cupping hands, fluttering their clothes; he stood up as the bike dissolved, and held up the girl behind him with an arm around her slim waist.

She stumbled into his warm chest; with a creak of leather and a growl of air, the flames dissipated. Gueira held her all the while, gazing down past her lacy white headband into lavender eyes. The way her fear reflected the flame, fuchsia irises glinting a myriad of warm shades, made it hard to look away.

But soon, the fog and all its cold was closing in again, and the heaving bosom against him was pulling them both out of the reverie.

“Oh…oh my,” she said, staggering a bit as he released her. She touched at her bob, pulling her slender, lace-clad fingers down the length of ribbons at the end of the headband. It, too, was covered with fiber flowers, all white and stacked like snowflakes on a windowsill.

Gueira smirked briefly, and then took her by the shoulder. She only went up to about his nose, even in the thick white heels, and it revved the engine in his chest in ways he couldn’t quite describe, to tuck her small, soft curves into his chiseled warmth. “Are you cold? I can warm you up.”

She giggled a bit shyly, but within a few steps was melting into him anyway as he pulled her along. “I-I’m fine, but…thank you. You’re such a gentleman.”

“Any time.”

“I’m really grateful, that you could pick me up like this. I was so lost…”

She continued to twitter at him as they made their way toward a ghostly structure. It was low-roofed, made of cedar siding and thick log supports, and tucked into the hillside. It would have been easy to miss, if you didn’t know where you were going, since it was down a winding driveway away from the road. Since they’d taken the old sign away, the pre-apocalyptic outpost was known only to insiders, now.

Insiders he was going to have to defend her from, but he would. He was a rough and tumble type, but there were still delicate things worth fighting for these days. And he’d just happened to find one of them, walking along the road.

“So how did you end up on the top of the mountain, anyway?”

“My cave is there.” She shrugged.

Gueira paused at that, but he had to get the key out of his pocket. She shuffled aside patiently as he dug around, and then he just muttered, “Fuck it,” and created one out of flame. The carbonite crystalized in his hand, and soon he was giving the hard iron rod a good twist and the door a good shove with his shoulder.

“Sorry, it’s not the Ritz,” he apologized as he held it open for her. “But it _is_ warm.”

“Oh, wow,” she said, clapping her hands together quietly as the warmth flooded outward and she saw what lay inside. The place was a lodge, made of stone and logs, and the lobby held a fireplace at one end. It was decorated with all kinds of animal skin furniture and mounted animal heads, in the western style—deep and low, with raw wood edges and enough space to fit six on any given piece of furniture. There were windows, but they were closed with heavy shutters currently, to ward off the night and prying eyes. A table lay at the back of the room, with papers and maps and such strewn around it.

“This used to be part of a hotel complex,” Gueira was explaining as he shut the door. “There’s cabins all over the place, but they aren’t as well defensed. It makes more sense to just hole up here in the winter.”

“Yes…” she said in a slightly distant way, her back to him. She turned her head toward the invisible sky. “I suppose the snow will be coming soon, won’t it…?”

Gueira tilted his head; he supposed it had tasted a bit like snow on the air, outside.

“Well don’t worry,” he announced, rolling his hand on his wrist. A small ball of flame appeared there, couched and glowing. “I’ve got enough flame to keep us both warm.”

“That sounds nice.” She turned and gave him what he could only assume was a cheeky little grin: She tucked her shoulder in, gave him an up-down, and then bit her lip, hands lost in all that skirt fluff. “Would you like to keep me warm… _tonight_?”

Gueira gave this a long look, tilting his head in such a way that he knew his jaw and neck would be featured by the soft light and shadow of the dancing fire. He closed his fist, and the light snuffed out.

“At least let me get you a drink first,” he quipped.

She chuckled and shrugged, then twirled at her hair sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s just…you’re very handsome and chivalrous, and I’ve been alone out here for a _very_ long time...”

Gueira swallowed hard, and he swore the lump went all the way to his crotch. He took a breath and headed over to the bar, which was the short wall of the room opposite the fireplace, so that he could adjust himself with a little privacy.

“P-please, make yourself at home,” he offered eventually, sweeping his hand out to light some of the candles along the way.

She made a little noise of charmed surprise, and when he looked back, he found “her” twirling around in the dim light, under the candle-clad chandelier, dancing like a fairy. Light and ethereal with nearly silent steps, she basked in the warmth and the light, and against her clothes, each flame somehow seemed to glitter brighter, as if each were suddenly alive.

When she finally stopped, the flame dimmed, and she was left grinning at Gueira with a big, white-toothed smile, as if she didn’t even quite know where she was.

“You’re amazing!” she beamed breathlessly, voice high.

Gueira was speechless, and the wine bottle in his hand was slowly pouring without his consent into the glass.

“Oh!” she pointed. “Mister, the wine!”

“Ah! Oh! Shit, shit!” Gueira pulled the bottle up and, though he spilled a little, a disaster was avoided. He stared at the glass, full to the brim with dark red wine. “Hrm.”

His passenger chuckled gently and swept herself over to him, light as a feather. From the guest side of the counter, she took up both glasses at arm’s length and, in her pristine white uniform, poured one into the other without missing a drop. 

Gueira gulped again, if only for the clothes. He remembered getting yelled at by his mother about such things, and this had near given him a heart attack.

So when she smiled behind a glass offered out to him, swirling with reflections of strangely-colored fire, he wasn’t entirely sure where the breathless feeling was coming from.

But soon she was sitting on an old leather-topped stool, feet primly on the crossbar, while he leaned on his hand from the bartender’s side. It was an easy sort of warmth that filled the space between them, and Gueira couldn’t help but get lost in the sweet scent of the little woman before him. Thin and petite, she was free with her smiles and kept leaning in as she spoke. Even more tellingly, she kept biting her lip tenderly when she saw his dark eyes lingering here and there.

“So where are you from?” He husked, swirling a fingertip and its tiny flame around the rim of her glass. The reflection of the flame slid down the sides of the glass and sent it into a cascade of dancing colors. It reflected on her hands, as if coloring the flowers on her lace. She watched it with a rapt and pleased smile, though eventually her eyes simply lingered on his hand.

“Somewhere far away from here,” she said with a sad sigh, her eyes closing dreamily. “By a cold, stormy lake, as big and dark as a sea.”

Gueira’s middle finger very, very slowly curled around the glass, the tip making sure to bend and flex palpably. Her eyes slid back open from her story and caught on the motion; her mouth hung open just the tiniest bit, with a soft intake of breath.

“Doesn’t sound very fun,” Gueira noted, his fingers lifting like a wind-caught handkerchief.

“It was—n’t…”

Her words dissipated as his hand hovered.

But she didn’t run, and she didn’t pull back. She waited, with baited breath.

Gueira’s middle and ring finger, just the very tips, brushed against the back of her hand, and slowly started to swirl there.

“So how did you end up here? And so prettily dressed at that?” A rugged smirk pulled at one side of his mouth. “You a runaway bride?”

“Hah, something like that.” It took a notable amount of time for her to respond beyond that, eyes fluttering shut against his touch. “I… Ah…” she bit her lip again, sucking in a breath. “I walked.”

“Thousands of miles?” He skirted the backs of his fingers up her lace-clad forearm, then swirled his fingertips in the joint of her elbow, pressed in just hard enough to tickle.

“It took a few years.”

“Really?” he husked. Her eyes flicked up, and caught by his, he leaned in, closing the distance between them. “But you seem so young.”

“I’m older than I look…” she replied quietly, flushed pink lips parting slightly for him.

Gueira tipped his head, lips just brushing hers as he whispered, “Are you less _innocent_ than you look, too…?”

As she gasped, he closed the last bit of distance between them and captured her lips. They were soft but cracked in a few places; small and thin but sending electric tingles through him all the same as he warmed them with his unnatural heat.

When she didn’t pull away, he slid his fingers through her silky hair and pulled her into him by the back of the head. She came forward with a tiny groan, bracing on the rough, glossy grooves in the old wooden countertop to get to him.

The man fancied himself a gentleman, so the kiss didn’t last long. Just a few long pulses, soft wet _smek_ s sparking to life in the air. But when he came up for breath, she was gripping his shoulder tightly with one hand, communicating her need.

“Oh,” she breathed, heady. “Mister…?”

“My name’s Gueira,” he whispered into her ear, eyes glossy.

“Guerra? ‘War’?”

“That very one.” His fingertips stroked against her scalp comfortingly, even as he went to suckle her earlobe.

A shiver shot through her, and for a while she simply held onto him, toes curling in her pretty white shoes and fingers digging into his jacket. “You… Ahn, you don’t…seem nearly that dangerous…?” she finished valiantly.

If he hadn’t had the counter between them, he would have been slipping his other hand beneath her skirt right about now, and then she would have been _truly_ defeated. “You haven’t seen me on the battlefield, beautiful,” he purred, giving her earring a little nip.

“Can I see you…in the bedroom?” she asked, stealing a little kiss as he pulled back.

Gueira grinned wickedly and gave her a harder, stronger kiss back as a reward, standing up straighter over the counter and causing her to muffle a surprised yelp into his mouth. Its air was warm, and he drank it up, the fire inside of him raging for the comfort of a second light in the darkness to share itself with.

“Only if you tell me your name,” he replied, a deep but excited edge to his voice, once he pulled away with a heavy gasp. “My little sugarplum fairy.”

His hand swept down to the base of her neck, where a thin white ribbon lay, and held there. Big fuchsia eyes batted up at him under light blonde lashes, the snowy cheeks below grown rosy. “It’s Lia.”

“Well, Lia.” Releasing her, he set the glasses aside, and then _hopped_ over the bar, using a hand as leverage. Flames followed both his feet, alighting the air in a sparkling arc for just a moment, the edges of the flames extra textured the way they did when he was excited. Her hair fluttered with the rush of air and heat, and when Gueira landed, it was on bended knee, turning her in her seat by the shoe and sending the skirt fluttering up in a compacted whirl. “Would you enjoy being my Aphrodite for the night, on the way to wherever you’re going?”

His hand slid up her stocking-clad leg and settled on her calf. He couldn’t see up her skirt for all the fluff obscuring the view, but she still squeaked a little, legs kicking at the feeling. But he held her steady, and soon, his warming touch was doing its job: She gazed down at him as if in a trance, lacy hands rested splayed on her knees, which were together primly.

“I’ve never been loved by a Burnish flame before,” she managed with a mostly straight face, looking down at him from on high. “But how can I say no to the fiery passion of my very own Ares?”

On his knees, Gueira grinned like a little boy, then kissed the shiny white tip of her knee, then her ankle, then her shoe. He took the toe in his hand, from the palm of which red and orange flame swirled. It flowed out from him with edges crackling into the air like so many windswept rose petals, twisting up her body and then underneath and up her back. The air pressure pushed at her and cradled her, while the heat was just nicely warm, like a towel out of the dryer.

She let out a gasp of wonder that was entirely real, and then started giggling incessantly. “I didn’t know you could do this!”

Gueira stood up with shoulders straighter and prouder than usual. He playfully drew her near with both hands curling their fingers inward, like pulling a length of rope in on a ship. When they were tight together again, Gueira let his flames encompass them both; with a snap of his fingers, all the other light in the room went out.

The flame shrank and shrank and shrank, until only his skin glowed slightly, as pearlescent as hers, though her light was cool and his was warm-hued. He pressed their foreheads together, and then settled his hands on her hips, rocking them back and forth slightly.

“I’ve been saving it for you,” Gueira admitted at a shy whisper, stealing a kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clasped loosely behind his neck, like two dancers at a prom. “You don’t even know me,” she quipped back, albeit swaying along with him and never missing a beat. She was barely a weight, and Gueira, for just a moment, had to admit the very ungentlemanly fact that he was looking forward to seeing her shake and try to hold on beneath his strength tonight.

“I get the feeling I’m going to know you very well by morning,” he replied, dipping down and kissing her neck, just under the jaw. She was hot, but he was hotter, and she tipped her head back with a decadent intake of breath, all but melting in his arms.

Gueira ran his hands up and down her sides roughly—to get the feeling to her through the corset—several times before deciding to just pull her in and wrap a heavy hand into her hair at the base of her scalp. His arm tucked into the valley of her spine, and he started leaving hungry kisses along her lace-covered neck, his day-long umber stubble ticklish.

“Ah, Mr. Guerra,” she said, weak protest floating up like crackles through a flame. Her hands clenched into the loose leather on his back. “A-about…that bed…?”

The fluff was wonderful to lose himself in, but the contrast of it with the tight bodice and soft lace was even more enthralling when taken all together. He pressed his clothed erection up into her, desperate to find something to backstop it. He was getting so hard it stung.

“Ah…uhn…” She was pliant underneath him, and as he brought her hot thigh up around his hip, soon she let go altogether and was wrapped around him, held up off the floor.

Gueira stumbled a bit at the sudden shift, but managed to keep them upright. Once they were steady—and he’d gotten control of his urge to thrust—she chuckled in his ear, just once. Molded all around him, she began to nibbled at his earlobe. The wet heat went straight to his dick, which twitched in his trousers, straining to be let out.

“Bed?” she asked again, cutely this time, the air cooling his earlobe.

“Y-yeah…” he muttered, hiking her up a little so he could walk. It was like walking carrying a dense cloud, or maybe a balled-up comforter. It made finding the edges of the doorways pretty difficult, but the weight wasn’t much to speak of, since she’d draped herself over him so nicely. Soon enough, he had found the hallway to the back. Before leaving, he drew the flame of the fireplace into his hand, leaving the rest of the room fully dark now.

But at his back, his passenger saw that there was still a smoldering light in the room.

It took the form of a man, thin and pale, lying silently on the couch that faced the fireplace. Especially his dark eyes, peering out at her from the shadow of his arm, with a hungry light all their own—and the predatory grin that bloomed as he watched them go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry I've been MIA and not finishing my other fics. I have Covid-19 and now a lung infection on top of it so I don't have a lot of brain bandwidth or energy. Playing around with this idea is basically my main source of cheer right now, so that's why it's getting done. Don't be too hard on me or this, it's just silly erotica.
> 
> On the flip side, if you want to ask me about Covid-19, go for it, I'll tell you everything I can.


	2. Stray Sugarplum 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are really cheesy and tender and I hope you like it.

The bedroom he carried them into was large by most people's standards. Dark, rich wood adorned nearly every surface that wasn’t covered with furs. Old landscape paintings of hunting bison and elk swept along the walls; a fine, studded-leather sitting set was in one corner with a Native American-style rug between the couches and chairs; and the bed was a queen size affair with end tables, which was covered in furs and fuzzy plaid sheets. It truly was a marvel it’d survived the Great World Blaze, and Gueira was proud to call it his own.

He held his new charge against him tightly as he walked in, one arm supporting her bottom and the other holding her head against his shoulder. He pushed the heavy walnut door shut and latched it, and then went about lighting the lamps in the room one by one—including the deer horn chandelier—with his finger sending flames about like a conductor’s baton. The end result was a warm and homey feel, with soft, deep shadows in the creases and crevices of the room.

On his shoulder, the girl’s head shifted. He could feel one arm tighten around his back, while the other lifted to point.

“Th…there was a man…” the little voice he carried said, quavering.

This didn’t phase Gueira, however. “Oh, was Meis back there? I guess he does like to sleep on that couch…”

“He was awake though?”

He shifted her weight as he approached the bed, not the least put off. “Well then we won’t have to worry about waking him up, will we?”

“I…I guess not. Is this really okay though? He looked…mad…” _Predatory_ was the word for it, and the chill was hard to shake.

Gueira hummed as he set his prize down on the bedspread, which itself was made of some poor animal fur of centuries yore or, they could hope, was synthetic. Still, it was very warm, and so fuzzy it looked like she was sitting in grass.

“I’m sure that’s just his resting bitch face,” Gueira assured. “It’s pretty much permanently on his face, when he isn’t grinning.”

Lia was set down on the bed, and ended up looking up at him with big eyes, legs splayed to the side and hands just before her knees. She bent forward a little, head tilted back as she looked over her shoulder at him expectantly. It was a picture-perfect daguerreotype of debauched innocence, and for a second Gueira just had to stare and admire the piece of art set out before him as his cock twitched.

“Who is he?” she insisted, eyes wide, lip quivering just the slightest bit.

“He’s…he’s just my partner. We run the wilds together on missions.” He put himself to work taking off his boots as he spoke, otherwise he’d never actually make it to her. She waited patiently for him, sitting primly and pertly, and Gueira soon came to sit on the bed next to his charge. She touched at his knee in greeting, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek too. It was so very warm.

“What kind of missions?” she continued. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh no, not at all,” he said, flopping back on the bed, arms behind his head, once he’d shucked his jacket too. “I’m one of the most powerful Burnish there is.”

He lifted a hand, swirling it on his wrist. A tiny flame alighted between each of his fingers, like he was doing sleight of hand tricks. Lia watched this with rapt attention, and it painted her cherubic face in a hazy red light that was both new to him and familiar at the same time, given that it’d been with him more than half his life now, always the same set of colors unique to him. However, with the dark shadows in the room, and the fabric flowers all over her, it left a number of eerie shadows on her form he wasn’t used to. In fact, when he got caught watching the reflection of the flame in her eyes, he felt like he was getting lost from time and space entirely.

Eventually though, she blinked and looked away, smirking gently.

“The flames like you,” Geuira croaked, breathless. Indeed, they felt hotter when she was around him, and even moreso when she was paying attention to him.

“Do they now?” Her lips quirked up even further. She touched at her hair idly, then stroked his leg through his trousers just to contact him. “I guess that means it’s just meant to be.”

“Maybe.” Gueira balled the four little flames into one larger one, and, settling it on his palm, took a deep breath. He blew it over to her like a dandelion seed.

“Oh!” Surprised, she caught the little flame, cupped in both hands. It flickered for a moment, seeming to burn brighter in her presence, and then evaporated with a _pop_.

“Hah. Cute little guy,” she chuckled, putting her now warmed palms to her cheeks and soaking in the warmth with a beaming smile. “Ahh, I’ve been so cold for so long, this is wonderful. _You’re_ wonderful, Mr. Burnish.”

Gueira found himself swallowing hard again, watching her sit on the edge of the bed by his hip, slender profile covered in lace, ruffles, ribbons and white roses, her feet hooked on the bedframe cutely as she grinned—and never once afraid of him. Only complimenting him, even.

He did what could charitably be called purring then, deep in his chest, and Lia turned from her reverie to catch him staring. She blushed abruptly at the look smoldering in his eyes, and froze.

“I want you,” Gueira said, breaking the spell—or maybe casting it.

She took a deep breath, eyes wide, and then went for one of the straps on her shoes, blushing furiously. He touched her elbow. “No,” he advised gently.

The fluffy little blonde paused, looking over his face. “No?”

He gazed her form up and down, eyes and smirk equally soft. “No,” he said again, voice hoarse but tender.

She was already leaning over him on one arm as he spoke, and it didn’t take much of that look to get her to lean down further. Within seconds, she’d fallen against him, their lips locked together.

It was a beautiful heat, one the flame inside him delighted to have.

In fact, when he breathed, there was a tiny light flickering in his throat.

Lia saw it, and ran a playful finger down the center of his neck, dragging extra slowly once it reached his Adam’s apple. “You’re really turned on, aren’t you?” came a voice that was a little more masculine, and sharp, than before.

“Very,” Gueira croaked with a few spare sparks in his mouth.

“Well let’s reward that, shall we?”

With a whisper of lace, she settled over his hips, her thin legs to either side. As his relatively large hands skirted up her thighs and under the tulle, searching for plush buttocks to grab, she leaned forward and laid against his chest like a cat. She went to work kissing him, arms wrapped around his head and fingers twined messily into his hair.

It was amazing, to Gueira, the amount of heat such a weightless person could bring. He could hardly feel the body above him, spread out as it was. And yet, the scent and heat of another person flooded him, and his attention was soon nothing but the undulating heat touching his mouth, and sweet hair falling around his face and tangling into his own. The fire in his soul was making all sorts of noise, loud and jangly, wanting to burn, sadly drowning out the sensation somewhat. When it got too loud in his head, louder than the feeling of lips working over his, he had to push her back, raggedly running his hands over her head and face again and again to get some sensation he could hang onto.

She tilted her head at him, hands gripping his lats for a balance.

“S-sorry,” he whispered between heavy breaths. “Just a moment. Need to cool off. Don’t want to burn the bedsheets.”

She smirked to herself proudly, and slowly leaned back. In fact, she leaned back so far that while Gueira was staring at the ceiling panting, she ended up on her back, shoes up by Gueira’s biceps and a tsunami of fluff fluttering around his jeans. Jeans which, he realized, he really needed to get off of him or he might get so hard he’d imprint the grain of the fabric into himself permanently.

“Little girl,” he husked at her, lifting his head awkwardly to look down the length of his body at hers. “If you don’t stop being so cute, I may end up ravaging you like a proper woman.”

Apparently she didn’t have anything intelligent to say to that, because all that came up from the other side of the fogbank of tulle was delighted, naughty giggles. “Oh dear me.”

Gueira took a few breaths, then hefted himself up with a growl. He flopped forward over the girl he’d found in the woods, crinkling the dozens of layers of fine mesh up between their chests. He buried himself in the heat of her neck and chest, growling and razzing her with his stubble even through the lace. She giggled and kicked and laughed, holding onto his back for dear life.

“Yes,” he agreed into that sweet fluff, “I think it’s time to give you that honeymoon you deserve.”

Her lace-covered hands slipped gently off his face as he lifted himself, the fingertips each leaving distinct tracts tingling along his jaw. Her hands fell to her chest, which was heaving slightly out of the top of the corset. There was something tender in her fuchsia eyes, as her hair was framed around her face. Gueira, lost in the moment, touched at it silently, pulling strands away from her mouth and eyes dutifully. “What?” he asked gently.

“That’s so sweet, Gueira,” “she” said, voice fallen back to normal.

“Well, it’s true,” Gueira replied, bending down to kiss his new friend once more, lovingly tender this time.

“Mmm…mnhg…” A hand gripped at the back of his head. “Take me, Gueira,” came the roughly whispered command. And when he lifted his head to look: “I’m your prize, aren’t I?”

The redhead smiled, a soft and worn thing. “You certainly are. My cute little trophy.”

He took one of his lover’s hands and held it at his mouth for a kiss. The other, he slid between his own legs, to cup his erection. The heat of it was tangible, even through the heavy fabric.

“And I’m going to teach you all about the pleasure of a man tonight.”

Lace and heat. Supple skin and hard. Dry, haggard growls and wet gasps. Push and pull; strain and give. Whispers and confessions, vows and praises. The hush of sheets and creak of a bed. All filled their night, little by little.

Gueira knew it was going to be a very good night when he was hit with a certain view of his rescuee: while he laid back on the pillows against the headboard, feet splayed and jeans unzipped, the little blond knelt between his tented legs. Her fluffy skirt was in the air, and her round, pale face rested in his crotch, his erection in her delicate hand. The lace gloves lent an interesting friction to the gentle, almost timid strokes, and Gueira was torn between leaning back with his eyes closed and watching the show.

The girl tucked her hair behind her ear and then lipped up his cock, pressing sweet little kisses into it on one side while holding it on the other. He was so hard he could die, and the feather-light ministrations were only making matters worse. He was getting dizzy, he had so little blood in his brain.

And then, with the sound of shifting fabric, the hot line of a tongue dragged up the bottom of his cock.

Gueira groaned, grateful for some release. His hands curled in the sheets, and his toes likewise clawed through the cotton.

She blew a cool breath onto his swollen and leaking tip where her tongue had left it wet, and then, _finally_ , as a keening plea ripped out of his throat, she took him into her mouth.

It was shallow at first, just the tip and little extra, but he didn’t care. It felt _good_. It felt like love, like being whole, and a lot like being on fire.

In fact, the magical fire in him was very happy right now: churning and warm, it buzzed along with the waves of pleasure, thrumming to his heartbeat. It wanted to be let out, to burn in the wild, but he forced that bit down into his stomach, with the promise of a different kind of release, that would make him all the hotter.

“Ahh, yessss, that’s it, like that,” he commented, stroking the silky head between his legs, fingers tangling in the ribbons of her headband. “Can you go deeper, sweetheart?”

Fuchsia eyes fluttered, thinking, assessing, and then dipped down again, as the narrow mouth stretched around his cock. She descended little by little, bobbing her head. One thin hand pressed delicately against the inside of his thigh, the other rested on his balls, and he just about had a heart attack. He was a sucker for the gentle ones.

Carefully, he guided her head up and down his shaft, setting a rhythm. He made sure it wasn’t too deep, and she managed to take what he gave. Hard as a rock as he was, there was no doubt she was going to have a swollen throat tomorrow. Gueira felt a little bad about it, but he was ready to convince her it was a badge of honor.

Eventually, she laid down a bit more and hooked her hands around Geruia’s legs, touching his cock only with her mouth. It was stunning, and messy, and he absolutely did not care that his zipper was full of spit. He simply reveled in the sensations and the sounds and the heat, until she eventually pushed back against his hand. He let her up, and his prick popped out of her mouth with an audible sound while she took a deep breath.

“S-sorry,” he whispered, heady. “You’re doing good.”

She just smiled and shrugged, kissing his dick again cutely. “I’m glad.”

They repeated this process several more times, until she was able to get almost all the way down his length, and unleashed a few swirling tongue tricks on him as well. In the end, Gueira was back to wanting to die of need, and he pulled her to sit up with him. Lia idly stroked his shaft as she watched his face, waiting for his instructions.

“Am I warm enough for you yet, Mr. Burnish?” she quipped.

“Getting there,” he answered, toothy.

He took the opportunity to nibble her ear, but before he could get far, she gave him a hard squeeze, like she was handling a thick ball of putty.

“You little minx,” he hissed, not at all upset.

She giggled, turning her neck when he snuffled at her skin. There was a lot of lace in the way though, and he was determined to fix that.

“My sweet, it is time you disrobed for me.”

“Well, you did say this was a honeymoon, didn’t you? I suppose I can, for my ‘new husband.’”

Gueira’s cock twitched at that, but he was grateful she had turned away from him before it happened. She went for the button between her collarbones, which tied the two halves of her bolero-style lace jacket together.

“No,” Gueira whispered. “Let me.”

She paused and then, understanding, beamed at him. Lia tossed her hair to the side and then opened her arms. Sitting with legs crossed, side to front, Gueira slowly went about pulling the delicate lace down her arms, leaving the little white ribbon at the base of her throat. When she turned around, he laid a trail of kisses down her spine, and set the lace aside, tossing it into a nearby chair.

She still had lacy gloves on, the ones with the snowflake pattern, just short wrist-length ones. “Keep those,” he instructed, and then went about untying the corset.

She bent her head, pliable while he worked—moving this way and that with a contented sigh with each pull of ribbon he administered. Soon, though, her thin arms snaked behind her back, and were stroking Gueira’s cock as he worked. The slow, tender touches were a sweet torture, and Gueira had to stop every once in a while to leave a hickie on her back, which she welcomed with a shiver and a coo.

Eventually, he pulled the corset away, tossing it on the floor. What was left to remove was the skirt. There was a zipper, somewhere in there, and after a bit he actually managed to get it open without being stuck in a million miles of tulle. Lia slipped out of it once she was able, sending it fluttering to the floor in a graceful, almost dragon-like undulation of her legs and hips.

And what Gueira was left with was a very interesting surprise, indeed.

Sitting in front of him, legs tucked under her, was a flat-chested girl with pert little nipples, wearing a white garter belt around her waist, that held up thigh-high nylon stockings via white satin ribbons, which also had adorable bows on them. And she had no underwear.

A gasp passed through Gueira’s lips, and then a smile wreaked havoc on both sides of his face. “Naughty girl,” he purred.

She bit her lip and looked off, gloved hands hiding her nethers. Wearing nothing but the headband, the gloves, the neck ribbon, the stockings, and her heels, it was the ultimate picture of shy submission.

“Tell me, my sweet sugarplum,” Gueira began, drawing a hand down her now bare arm, and watching the shiver rise, “are you afraid of me?”

“A-afraid? Why would I be afraid? You’ve done nothing but help me.”

“Yes, but…” Gueira flicked his hand to the side, and small flames alighted on each of his fingertips. “I _am_ Burnish. And Burnish are bad people, you know.”

She gave his eyes a long stare; just as Gueira thought she’d break the magic of the night to lecture him, those big eyes turned away. She reached for his arm and drew it near; her hand slid down his elbow to his wrist, and then drew his flaming hand to just before her face. He made sure to lower the heat, before she opened her mouth and inserted his finger.

There was a little sizzle of steam, as she slicked the entire length of his digit in spit, sucking hard on the way back up. She did this four more times, with each one, and then, said with his thumb in her mouth and her chest pushed out, “Not to me.”

Gueira sighed bodily and, wrapping his arms around her suddenly, rolled over onto his back. She came out sitting on his abs, legs splayed, and lacy hands rough against his skin.

The rakish redhead grinned, taking a moment to admire the view, his arms behind his head. “What a lucky find, then.”

She sent an air kiss at him. “That’s my line.”

He chuckled and set two fingers at her collarbone. They drew down slowly, over sternum and navel, down into dark blond curls, until they landed on the tip of a pert little erection.

“And what do we have here.”

He tapped the precum on the tip, sending it bobbing.

“This is pretty too. Just like the rest of you.”

“Mm, well…” But before she could come up with a reply, Gueira had a hold of her, stroking the phallus underhand. His hand went around it easily, so there was lots of variation to the sensation he could make with his fingers even with the angle. She wasn’t cut, either, so the sheath made for a glorious sliding motion. She shivered and, mouth open, started to rock into his hand.

“There you go. What a natural you are.”

He tightened his abs so she could rest more of her weight on her hands, and took a grip of her stocking-clad thigh to help her thrust. It was a beautiful sight, the little sugar fairy above him, eyes closed and rocking slowly, savoring each moment of touch.

“Mmm, it feels good, Mr. Burnish, I could do this all night,” she whispered, voice high and breathy. “I can’t wait to see what you show me next…”

“Oh, you won’t be seeing it,” he quipped, and when she looked at him quizzically, he winked.

Lia blushed hard, and Gueira sat up with a chuckle. He took her by her slender shoulders and pressed heavy kisses into her neck. She shivered, hands reflexively coming up to hold his arms as well. Gueira rubbed at her nethers with his sizeable knee, which was still clad in rough jean fabric, and then said with a parting kiss, “Give me a moment.”

She was left in the center of the bed while he slid to the side, shucking off his jeans. His jacket had been discarded with his shoes, and now he was aiming for the hem of his undershirt, a simple charcoal grey affair.

“Wait,” came the soft voice. “Let...let me do it?”

“Oh? Ah, sure.” He dropped his hands, and another set, this one much more delicate, curled up the edges of his shirt from behind. It was like a pet almost, gently searching for a place to rest. But soon enough she had the fabric up by his pecs; he raised his arms, and off it went. When he turned, totally naked now, her eyes widened.

She bit her lip, and then thought better of it and bit her gloved fingernail. She was silent though, sitting primly on her knees as she looked over him.

Gueira was not the most built man in the world, but he was certainly decked out more traditionally than either his boss, who was a twig in human form, or Meis, who might just have had a disorder of some kind because he was so wiry.

“Like what you see?” Gueira asked, flexing. The soft outline of his abs caught the light when they rippled.

She nodded, and beckoned him over with a hand.

Curious, Guirea followed, spinning around and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. She almost instantly mounted his lap like he was the motorcycle, and started petting over his skin, his thick shoulders, his scars. Gueira had fairly well-defined muscles, and the rolling hills of his pecs, the valleys of his six-pack, and the ridge of his collarbone appeared to be particularly attractive to her. Pretty soon, the little woman was sucking at his lats, while running her hands up and down his front and pinching his nipples. Their hard lengths were pushing together too, with the spark of sweat-slicked skin-on-skin contact.

Gueira held her buttocks, then her back, and pretty soon was sucking on a nipple of hers, eliciting soft sounds of surprise and pleasure from her as she cupped his head desperately to her thin chest.

They were both flickering flames, and the ones in Gueira’s heart were quiet, sated and happy, as if being in proximity to another soul made them feel safe.

Eventually, his cock was smeared with even more precum, and his big fingers were swirling questioningly around her hole. “I want to open you up,” he whispered into her shoulder. “May I?”

“Oh sweet flame,” she answered melodically. “I’d be honored.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the well-wishes! I feel really awful today. If you have a moment, tell me what parts you like best :>
> 
> More to come in chapter 3...


	3. Stray Sugarplum 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally feeling a bit better! Week 5! Thank goodness. *wheezes*

He turned her over onto her stomach. Placed neatly within the white pillows, she practically disappeared. But Lia folded her stocking-clad legs back idly as she watched him over her shoulder, long, white heels crossing in the air. Gueira had dug through the bedside table, a Prairie School style thing, and brought out a small plastic bottle.

“Is it going to hurt?” she asked as he came back over.

“Just a little, at first,” he admitted, parting her legs and settling them on either side of his body. He ran his hands reverently up and down them, reveling in the shape, and then set a little kiss on her bare buttock. “But if you stay relaxed, it’ll only last a moment.”

He lightly slapped the pert skin where he’d set his lips a moment earlier, and she chuckled. “I’ll try…”

Popping the cap of the bottle and coating his fingers with what lay inside, he warmed the gel with his flame, and then ran his thumb gently along the cleft of her ass, parallel to the ribbons and clips that sat atop the mounds. She shivered and pushed her head into the pillows, drowning out a soft moan.

When he thought she was ready, he introduced his middle finger, giving her time to adjust. She made a soft noise, not of injury though, and so he pushed deeper, down to his third knuckle.

“There, not so bad, is it?”

“N-no…”

“Let’s try two, shall we? Unless you want me to wait?”

A breath, then another, and then: “No, I’m good.” She glanced over her shoulder cutely and watched him with one eye.

“All right. Here it is.”

He pressed his second finger in, which took a bit more work. She went back to biting the pillow, making noises that made him want to rush. But he forced himself to concentrate, to take his time, to listen to each note from her and mark it as pain, pleasure, or confusion.

“You’re almost ready. You’re doing so good for me. Here.”

Pulling out, he coated all three fingers anew and pressed them together into a wedge shape, overlapping each other. He entered at a slightly higher angle then before, and then turned his fingers, searching around to hook downward.

“Ahh…hahhhn,” she said, shivering. And then, all of a sudden: “Ah?!”

“That’s it,” he announced with a grin. He brushed over the little node again, causing her hips to jolt into the mattress.

“What was that?” she asked, trembling.

Gueira grinned. “What I’ll be trying to hit.”

He pulled out his fingers and laid a new kiss on her butt cheek. He was quick to slick himself up after that, though he cleaned off his fingers on the divot of her spine first. No reason to ruin the sheets, after all, when you could ruin a nice girl instead.

“Are you ready for me?” he husked, mind hazy with lust. “It’s going to feel so good for you, baby.”

She clacked her long heels together behind his back, and then spread her legs out as he mounted her hips.

“There you go,” he narrated mostly to himself, as he took a meaty grip of both buttocks in his hands, and rubbed his erection up the cleft between them. “You’ll like this, I promise.”

He gripped himself and lined up, and that was when she said darkly, “ _Show me what a Burnish cock feels like, Gueira._ ”

He shivered but couldn’t stop to process the shift. He leaned down, letting his weight spread what his hands could not. A short gasp, and then a long groan, came out of the little body beneath him. She shivered and bit down on her pillow. Inch by inch he opened her up, letting out a long hiss through his teeth, until, finally he reached the hilt.

“There you go, my sweet,” he said, smoothing a ragged hand up and down her back. “It’s in all the way. Now breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.”

She did as told, and slowly started to relax. “I’m really doing it,” she said softly, looking back at him over the pillow that hid all but her eyes. “I’m really having sex.”

He chuckled, and slapped her ass lightly. “You are. And you’re beautiful at it.”

She took a deep breath, drinking in the compliments and trying to stay relaxed under all his weight. “I feel so _full_ ,” she continued, wondrous voice muffled by the down. “Of a _man_. Of a _Burnish man_ ’s hard cock.”

Gueira gulped at that, and distinctly felt said cock twitch inside of her. “Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely in reply.

“What would mother think of me now, if she knew?” Lia whispered, her narrow shoulders hunched but her hips trying to push forward into the sheets. The little white satin ribbon graced her neck like a collar, and Gueira couldn’t help but think about how much it suited her, when she was underneath him like this.

“She’d think you’re all grown up.” He set his hands firmly down on her buttocks and squeezed what little extra skin lay there. She moaned and he dug his fingers in, enjoying how she tightened around him in response. In a moment, he swirled his fingertips forward until he held her by the hips, gripping the bony ridges tightly to hold her steady. Slowly, he drew himself back about halfway, and then pushed in more, enjoying the slick sound of him splitting her open—and the squeaks that came out of her mouth like he was pushing the air right out of her.

The girl faced forward anew, shivering over the pillow she clutched. Gueira continued to whisper small praises down upon her like a gentle spring rain, guiding her through the initial strokes.

“You feel good,” he husked, changing positions slightly. He set his knees on either side of her and trapped her thighs under his ankles; he braced his hands in the sheets so that he could press in at a higher angle. But, unsatisfied with that, one hand quickly raked up and down her slender arm, and came to rest on her bicep. “So hot and—ah— _tight_.”

“Thank you,” she whispered back at him, strained. “Thank you for taking my virginity.”

Gueira pushed harder. They were magic words, enticing him to go further, faster. Because that was what bad men did—they took the blissful ignorance of innocent girls, and transformed them into insatiable, lascivious creatures.

But Gueira also wanted to be a good man, despite what he was, and wanted to give such women a nice memory at least to remember his once-human heart by.

“I’m going to go faster,” he warned, putting more of his weight into each thrust. She squeaked underneath him, but didn’t complain. In fact, it turned into a deep gasp of feeling, over and over, that, along with the feeling of his legs over her hot, nylon-clad ones, drove him to distraction.

So perhaps that was why he thought grabbing her neck and pinning her down by it would be a good idea.

He stabbed his length down into her repeatedly, swirling his hips so he could hopefully hit the sweet spot. From the sounds of it, he was, and she was shivering all over with weak, frantic noises. Her hands curled in the sheets, lost under the pillows, and he couldn’t see her face fully, not that he was looking at it.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel good,” he growled through gritted teeth and panted breaths. “You’re so pretty and tiny and _tight_.”

“Ah…ahn…. _hhhurfs_.”

“I’m going to enjoy fucking you for all you’re worth.”

“ _Ahhhn_ ,” she managed when she turned her head enough to get air. “So _big_ …”

“Yes darling, it is, isn’t it?”

“Ah, so big it…it _hurrrrts_ ,” she whined, breath catching. Her hands clenched in the sheets, and a tremble ran down her back. “I can’t…can’t _take_ …an-anymore…!”

Gueira suddenly stopped. “I…” His hands pulled back a bit in fear. “What, really?”

He moved his hands into the sheets and pushed himself back, checking for blood. He didn’t see any, but...?

The tiny girl beneath him took a deep breath, then another, then shifted around on her forearms to look at him. A smirk was thrown at him, and then a wink.

“O-oh, right, yeah…” Gueira muttered, knot in his stomach unwinding. He smoothed a hand down the mound of her butt and up her back, grazing through the soft blond hairs and the lacy garter at her hips. “Those were, um, very realistic noises.”

Rather than saying anything, “Lia” just reached back until she found his head. Gueira leaned into it, and she scratched a few soothing strokes against his scalp with her lacy fingers.

Gueira sighed and kissed her palm, his dick twitching in her hot well. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” The voice was quiet in the sheets. “Keep going. It feels really good.”

“Right. Right…okay.” Gueira’s second sigh was ragged and tinged with blush. He grabbed the skin at Lia’s back where his hand lay. “D-don’t worry, little girl. Just relax. It’ll feel good soon. Burnish cocks are big, but little girls like you are meant to take them.”

“O-okay…” The high-pitched voice was back. “I trust you, my Burnish husband.”

Gueira’s breath sucked into his throat, but he was certainly throbbing again. He could feel the blood pulse along his length, differently on either side of the tight ring of muscle. With a groan, he leaned all the way down, until he was fully sheathed against her. Wiry red curls brushed up against plush skin, and his balls swelled against the bottom of her hips. With a haggard curse, Gueira leaned down and molded into her back, arms hooked around her shoulders from below.

“ _God_ , you feel good,” he muttered into her spine, laying several kisses and nips there. She responded with a shaky mewl, which only made him bite lightly into the side of her neck, drinking in the heat there. She shivered desperately underneath him, hands coming up to grip his own even as her head tilted to the side. The feeling of skin all over his own was driving him wild, and he could only imagine what it was like for her with the weight involved, too.

Legs spread out over hers, he slowly began to thrust, pulling out and pushing in with deeper strokes each time. The tight, breathy moans deepened to match, but there was nowhere for her to go; she just had to hold on and take it.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Gueira whispered into her ear between heavy pants. Soon, he was making deep thrusts to the hilt, lost in the feeling of the heat and the slap, the way his force shook her body all the way to where he held her in his hands. “You’re amazing under me.”

“Ah, _ahn_ , G- _Gueira_ …” she moaned, in between breathy sighs. Her hands abandoned his to grip the pillows. Gueira himself followed suit, shifting to twine around her, forearms scooped under her chest until one hand was gripping her bangs less than gently and another was holding her throat. His face buried into the sheets next to hers, and he made a point of slowing his breathing, slowing his thrusts, to be long and consistent. He settled into a rhythm, his breath and his fire thrumming like a machine.

“ _I could fuck you all day_ ,” he sighed, clutching her deeply. “You’re so hot and wet and tight and small.”

“Ahhhhn…hnnng…yah…you’re so _hard_ ,” she eventually managed to reply, spit dripping out her moaning mouth. “So good and hard for me.”

Gueira’s mind rolled over a little; he was looking for the spot, trying to hit it, but also understanding she was already somewhat overstimulated. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he continued, slowing down. With a sigh that turned into a growl, he pushed himself onto his hands, elbows locked and thick forearms straining. Breathing hard, he left himself sheathed deeply in her, the rest of his weight steadied on the point where they connected. Gueira hung above her, watching her shake the sweet curves of her pale body as she panted in the quiet night.

In _his_ night. His bed, his room, his hideout. All his, intimate and secure, and filled with the sounds and smells of sex.

“Let me see you,” he breathed. One large hand gripping her hip, and the other grabbing her throat, he pulled her up into him, their sweaty skin sticking together. He kissed her jaw, her cheek, her ear, and then let her fall forward on her knees, hands pressed against the headboard with head bowed.

“Like that,” he whispered. “Such a beautiful creature.”

She keened in her throat, and quietly, oh so tenderly, started to pant again as he took her hips in both hands and rocked into her. The shape of her—slender and gently curving, with a pert, heart-shaped bottom topped by white-satin garter ribbons—made his mouth water. Watching her light hair part on her neck, which was blushing the pink of spring apples blossoms, on the way to delicately fisted fingers encased in lace—it was a dream come true.

“I’ll make a woman of you yet. Just you wait and see.”

Lia, between her arms, quivered gently. “Fuck me until I’m your perfect woman.” Under the deep thrust of his cock, she slowly started pushing back against him. “Make me your slut.”

“You want to be my slut?” Gueira asked, his voice cracking. He pulled her back harsher, causing her to cry out. Pinning her buttocks to him with a hand, he wrapped his other in her hair. He drew her head back, tightly twisting the strands into a mess over his scarred fingers. 

She squeaked in pain, but it disappeared when her throat was pulled taught. Her back arched beautifully, thrumming like a string that wanted to be played, and Gueira took a moment to admire it before licking a line all the way up her spine.

“You’ve got potential. If you want to be my perfect slut, that is,” he began, leaning back and pulling her down. “But before you get that distinction, you’ll need to show me you can enjoy taking me.”

They fell back on the bed, Gueira still sheathed in her. She laid with her back against his chest, fluffy head rested against his jaw and collarbone. He crossed his hands over her chest in an X, holding her still with hands on her shoulders. For a second, they just lay there, feeling the other breathing hard.

“Oh,” she said suddenly, searching for what to say. “I can breathe again.”

Gueira nuzzled into her cheek and laid several tender kisses there. “You’re cute.”

She hummed happily, spreading her legs a bit, and Gueira petted her head heavily—both to ground himself and because he longed for connection. When he caught his breath, it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere, so Gueira released one hand from its grip and slid it heavily down her body. Over pec and ribs, down the abs, then over curls and sweeping down a thigh. Spreading his fingers, he guided her leg wide open, leaning on his own. Then he did the same with the other, until she was open on him like a book in a cradle. She was pliable, not protesting at all, and in fact, was laying on him making luxurious little groans whenever his fingers brushed an erogenous zone.

And then, with a deep breath that fluttered into her hair, he pushed both hands down her hips and over her own swollen erection, pressing it all the way flat.

She wheedled sharply, legs twitching further curled. Gueira kissed the place where her neck met her shoulder, sucking at the salt idly, as he wrapped his big hand around her hard shaft.

“Ah!” A jolt shot through her, and her arms raised halfway, not sure what to do with themselves. As he cooed to her, lazily stroking up and down, she reached back and gripped his hair, pulling at it for purchase.

She was tightening around his dick, and he rather enjoyed slowly toying with her, to feel the change around him.

Her hips rocked up and down slightly to push herself into his hand; he rewarded this by tightening his grip slightly over time.

“Ah…ahnnn, _oh_ Gueira…”

Gueira paused and kissed her neck. “Touch yourself for me.”

He pulled her thin hands down off his head with his free hand, setting each one over a nipple. 

“Ah…?” Despite the unsure noise, she slowly started to pinch and pull at the tiny, rigid nubs. Gueira could feel her growing warmer, and very subtly she became quieter, concentrating on the new feeling.

“There you go. Good girl.” Gueira reached around over her left arm and set his free hand on Lia’s thin throat. He pressed into the hot, soft skin, gripping tighter and tighter until she let out a squeak. Picking that as his level, he kept his right hand on her erection, and started shifting his own dick up and down into her.

It didn’t take long for the strained whimpers to go silent. Listening to the thrum of the blood in his ears, the crackle of the flame in his heart, before she whispered a completely unwound “Oh God, _Gueira_ …”

“If you want to come, you can, sweet thing,” he husked, doing a flourish with his hand to squeeze the weeping tip.

“Mmmmf _hnnng_ …”

“Just imagine if we had a mirror. You could watch yourself.”

“Hhhnnnnnrg.”

“Watch yourself be deflowered by the Burnish man who found you.”

“Ahhhhhnnn…”

“Just a sweet girl, getting knocked up by her savior.”

“Hhhhhhha……..”

“Do you want that? To carry my child in the wastelands?” He loosened his hold on her, both neck and cock, and slowly pushed her upright with a palm between her shoulder blades. With a little breathy noise of loss and confusion, she flopped forward, weakly propping herself up on her hands between his legs. Her own legs, still in their white lace stockings and ribbon-laced shoes, folded back along his own legs, the tall heels up by his ribs.

She was impaled on him still; he laid a warm hand on her rump, under the chipper bow in the garter ribbon, and slowly guided her hips to rock on him.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, whisper soft and velvety. “Show me you like to get fucked.”

An insecure sound keened out of her throat, but, shoulders hunched, she slowly started to rock forward on her knees. 

“That’s why we do this, you know. To get pretty, fertile little girls like you knocked up.”

“Hhhng…” After a bit, getting up a rhythm, she glanced over her shoulder, mouth slightly ajar and lips glossy with spit and cheeks red with the embarrassed blush flowing through them. “L-like this? Mister?”

“Mmmm,” he agreed, enjoying the view. “Just like that.”

Gueira titled his head back and focused on guiding her with both hands, pushing up into her a little where he could manage. It wasn’t perfect, and he was leaving bruises under his fingertips, but he didn’t think either of them cared. Certainly not with the way she slid up and down his shaft.

“Show me you like being my little come-slut, or I won’t be able to give you the proper dicking you need to get pregnant.”

A heavy whine weaved out of her throat, and she heated up around him. She pushed herself extra deep on him and then stayed there, panting and shivering. “I want to be your cock-sore come-slut,” she admitted quietly, cheeks burning.

Gueira chuckled, holding her still in that position so that he could memorize it.

“Well you’re certainly getting there,” he encouraged, grazing the backs of his fingers up and down her spine once he’d had his fill. “In fact…”

Gueira shifted, sitting up. He lifted her up and off his cock by her slender waist, and, barely a weight, set her onto the sheets. Gueira crossed his legs and, one hand over his neck and the other on his cock, took a few badly-needed deep breaths.

She was tired too, he could tell—she was just gazing out at the night stand glassily, breathing hard.

“Are you too hot?” Gueira asked, running a hand over her arm.

“Hah…” “She” chuckled wryly and shook her head. “I’m fine. But can we…can you…” She looked away, touching at her hair, now wavy with sweat. “I’d like to see your face.”

She looked a little guilty. Gueira blinked a few times. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just…you see people all the time from the font. It’s kind of mesmerizing, someone’s back, like this. Such a new landscape to explore. I didn’t really realize.”

She smiled fondly, and then leaned over and kissed his shoulder, because that was what she could reach. When she was done, she laid her head against his steaming-hot lats, curling into him.

He sighed and petted her head and neck tenderly. “You’re sweet like this. It’s nice.”

“You too,” she replied, voice a bit deeper than normal. “So many new sides of you I don’t normally get to see. Or…see all of, I guess.”

Gueira kissed the little blonde head, both of them shiny with sweat at this point.

“You’ve got some good stamina, too,” his little partner quipped, tickling his freckles where her hand rested.

He chuckled. “Why thank you. Can’t get to be the second most powerful Burnish in the area with no breath control.”

“Hee!” A laugh bubbled up out of her, and she wrapped her arms lazily around his neck and shoulders. “Oh, Gueira. You always make me laugh, somehow, even when you’re sweet. How wonderful is that?”

“Am I doing all right?” he asked, getting pulled down as she laid back. “You’re having fun?”

“A lot.”

“Good.” She landed on her back, cradled in the sheets, and he crawled over her tiny body, drinking in the view and feeling terribly masculine for the difference between them. “It seemed like you were almost ready to come there, for a minute.”

“Yeah and whose fault was it that I didn’t?” she quipped back, spreading her lace-clad legs with their heavy shoes dexterously—and then closed them around his waist, locked at the ankle.

Gueira dipped his head, air-dropping an apology kiss. “Sorry.”

“Shhh,” his partner soothed, massaging “her” hands through the thick red hair. “Nothing to be sorry about, you’re doing great.” She pulled him down, hands on both sides of his face as she captured his lips.

For a bit, they tasted each other, lost in the sweet lull of quiet intimacy. Eventually, though, grinding into each other, Gueira broke away for breath.

“You’re so hard,” Lia, returned to the fore, said in the space between them, knees pressing into his waist for friction.

To which Gueira replied with a rakish grin, “You make me feel so manly. I can hardly stand it.”

His lover giggled softly to herself, and then ran her hands around his skin until she reached his face. She cupped his jaw, pretty fuchsia eyes gazing up at him. “Well maybe you should get back to it, hero. Repopulating the Earth and all that.”

Gueira smirked and nuzzled into her neck and shoulder. Eventually, after the giggles wore down from stubble tickles, he pulled his role back on—and her nylon calves over his shoulders.

There was something beautiful about the position, she thought, with her body laid bare over his in the darkness, and knowing she’d given him the right to use it as he pleased. With the scent of sex floating around them, heat between them, and no sound but the breathing of them both…

The sight of him leaning down, physically foreboding, yet made docile by kindness—it was an alluring sort of heightened awareness. With the intimacy of her partner’s attention on nothing but her and the task at hand, the rest of the world might as well not have existed. It was breathtaking, that moment, and she never wanted to leave it.

So the girl in white lay obediently as she watched the redhead silently pour more lube onto his hand, eyes soft, body loose, balancing the shapely legs on either side of his neck. The cap snapped closed, he set it aside, and his hand disappeared as he slicked himself up.

He glanced at the girl to check in, and found her staring at him with an unusually soft and hungry look, yet weirdly dreamy.

“Wh-what?” he asked.

“Have I ever told you how ruggedly handsome you are? And yet so boyishly innocent? And those broad shoulders…mmm…”

Gueira immediately blushed scarlet and hid his face in a lacy, shapely calf.

“And, you know? My ankles look great around your ears. Just as I thought they would.”

Gueira kissed the nylon a few times, causing his partner’s toes to curl inside “her” shoes. “Your legs are fuckin’ amazing,” he agreed sheepishly.

“Thank you,” “she” preened, practically sparkling. “Lia, for one, is _very_ impressed by you. She finds you very charming and trustworthy and manly.”

“Yeah?” Gueira husked, lining himself up while keeping his eyes on hers.

“Ah…yesss,” his partner breathed, eyes fluttering for a second before coming back to keep the challenge going.

“So much so she’d be willing to take my seed?” he whispered, leaning down.

“M— _mmmm_ —Maybe,” came the tease, which was quickly cut off by the girl tipping her head back and her eyes fluttering shut with a moan. She let out a long, luxurious, and yet shaky breath, as Gueira slowly pressed inward, stretching her waiting entrance. It was hot and tense; he held there for a moment, petting over her stomach while waiting for her to relax.

“I think I want to. Come in you, that is.”

“Oh _no_ , not _thaaat_ ,” came the breathy falsetto.

“Yeah, _that_ ,” Gueira went on, leaning down far enough now that they were tightly entwined. He shuffled himself a little, so that he could get at the right angle, and then started leisurely thrusting from on high, each slender ankle clad in white held between thumb and forefinger. “I think you need it. Some extra white-hot heat to keep you warm, little fairy. Courtesy of a Mad Burnish man.”

“Not _that,_ I could _never_ ~”

“But you want to be a grown-up woman though, don’t you?” he went on, ignoring the protest. “ _My_ woman?”

“Mmmmn?” she agreed, a bit plaintively.

“Safe from all the things that lurk out there? Then you’ll have to be a good girl and take _allll_ of me.”

“I want…I want to be a good girl for you,” she replied desperately, in between the moans that came from his ministrations, every time she was pushed up the bed.

“And you _are_ a good girl. So you’ll stay with me at this hideout, away from the terrible world, won’t you? Don’t you want to raise a beautiful Burnish child, with my height and your legs? With long red hair that burns as bright as mine, but that’s as straight and fine as yours?”

The girl whined at this, hands tangled in the sheets, and giving him a beautiful view of her collared throat.

“I think you might like it,” he went on, head tilted back. “Getting used every day until you’re knocked up, and then I’ll show you off to my friends as your belly swells…”

There was a hissing moan from beneath him, as the tiny fairy blushed from cheek to chest.

“Oh, you like that? Getting shown off? Well. I certainly like what I see.” Gueira continued to work her, steady and easy, his chest swelling with deep breaths and neck muscles shimmering with sweat. His hair, with its constant underglow, lit their world, and his red eyes started to burn with pleasure when he gazed down at his captive, completely submissive and very hard under him. He slid her wavering legs apart slightly, so that he could watch himself disappear in and out of her. “I wish you could see yourself. Taking my cock so well.”

Lia’s breaths, meanwhile, just became more and more high-pitched.

Gueira spread her legs open wide on either side of him, hitching them around his waist. The shoes made the weight different, and he loved the helpless way they moved in the air as he drilled into her heat.

“You said you wanted to see me, but you just keep your eyes closed. Open them. Look at me.” He bent down and took her chin in hand, guiding it to look him in the eye. “Look at _yourself_ , being _fucked_ by me.”

The petite woman’s response was something to behold. She saw her legs, pulsing on either side of him, and his dark, heavy form lit only by his otherworldly eyes and hair. And through it all she was lost in waves pleasure, pushing into her and drawing back again in an unending rhythm, forced to listen to her own moans and heaves.

He was starting to breathe hard too though, and hot sweat slid off his brow onto her chest. Unable to respond verbally, he sought out her hands, which had been holding his sides, and then held them down into the pillows near her head, fingers entwined with hers. They were spread almost painfully, his hand was so big in comparison, but they were certainly spread _helplessly_ , and with nowhere to go but to watch him debauch her with her knees on his shoulders, she keened, entirely too turned on.

“You’re such a good girl,” Gueira was saying, lost in his thoughts as he concentrated on going balls-deep. “I think you need to be filled, until you’re dripping. You can’t be a real wife until you’re full of a man’s come.”

“Ah…!” Her hands strained against his, but had nowhere to go.

“And I promised to give you the honeymoon you never had right? So you’ve gotta take my load. Feel it burst inside you…”

“Ahn, Gueira…!”

“Once you’re good and pregnant, I’ll let all my men see you…and you can fuck any of them you want, so long as you let me watch,” he promised. “You can be the treasure of the organization, bearing our next generation with that big belly of yours.”

“Oh fuck,” Lia moaned, face twisting. “ _Harder_.”

He had been slowly leaning down, and now, he let go of her hands and scooped her up, wrapping tightly around her front-to-front, her legs slipping down to his waist. As his words broke off, hers started flowing; as he closed his eyes and dipped his head, she tilted her head back and gazed at the ceiling. She watched her arms clutch the broad expanse of his naked back, and her bent legs shake under his thrusts, stockings and heels palely glinting in the light.

His waves of impact crashed into her, again and again. After several strokes, she came-to enough to reach down and grab his buttocks, guiding the firm muscle deeper into her. She was bruising, she knew it, but it felt so good she didn’t _care_. She just wanted him to _fill her_.

“Gueira,” she groaned. “Oh, Gueira, it feels so good. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Just fill me with your come! I want to be yours!”

Gueira’s breath broke and hitched, turning erratic and loud. His hips moved faster and shorter, heavy balls slapping thickly. “Hahhh…hng…Lio… _Lio!_ ”

“God, _Gueira_ — _!_ ” His breath fluttered higher and shorter, turning into incoherent sounds. Lio closed his eyes tight and curled around his general as an orgasm swelled toward him, pulling as much skin as possible against his; Gueira, for his part, growled ferally and climaxed with thick, heavy spasms. His hips thrust hard and without care for what they impacted; when the heat of his ejaculation unfurled inside Lio’s body, it was the last thing Lio could handle, and the flame in him alighted as he came too. Pink and blue roared to life out of Lio’s hands, sprouting from the Gueira’s mercilessly bruised back and spreading through the air like brightly colored wings.

“Oh…” Lio muttered, breathless and mindless, as his orgasm washed over him and he watched the heat rise to waver in the air like a mirage. He wanted Gueira to see it, but of course it wouldn’t work that way. It was over in a few moments, and as Gueira collapsed against him and the sticky mess between them, Lio held him, lost in the beauty of the evaporating flame—and the weight of an exhausted, sweaty, lovely man on top of him. “ _Wow_ …”

They really did need a mirror on the ceiling.

Eventually, Gueira had mildly cleaned them both up and then flopped immediately down into bed, under the messy covers. He snuggled in and Lio welcomed him; they’d were lying in each other’s arms now, and had been for a while, idly touching and whispering sweet nothings here and there. Gueira was currently lying half draped over Lio, a heavy arm across his chest, his head in the crook of his shoulder, and one of Lio’s slender legs (now nude) captured between his own.

Lio was still enjoying the blissed-out quiet of the flame, and the night, when Gueira shifted slightly.

“Lio,” Gueira whispered, so soft it could barely be heard. Lio noted that he wasn’t using his title; whatever was coming was something he couldn’t say normally. “Do you ever…regret becoming Burnish?”

Lio sucked in a breath, but when the initial bristle passed, he spent a moment listening to the rise and fall of Gueira’s chest. Feeling the heat in him, and the tense, awkward silence thrumming through his limbs.

“No,” he replied quietly. “But I regret the way the Burnish are treated.”

He petted a hand down Gueira’s back repeatedly, trying to unwind the tension. Eventually, it seemed to take.

“Mm…yeah, I guess that is it. Isn’t it.” He stroked a hand down Lio’s arm. “I like my powers. But I wish…” His hand unfurled from Lio’s arm, a dim, cool flame alight in it. “People could see it the way we do.”

Lio hummed and lifted his hand, cupping Gueira’s. Their flames entwined, changing color and becoming slightly warmer.

They both watched the dance for a while, until Gueira flexed his fist and all that was left was Lio’s.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” Gueira asked, looking at his dark hand, and Lio’s light one.

“What is?”

“Magic.”

Lio chuckled and let his hand fall around Gueira’s ribcage, flame back inside him. “I suppose.”

“What do you think the voices are?”

Lio shrugged. “They’re either the subconscious, the souls the flame have eaten, or us slowly going insane.”

“I…” Gueira sputtered. “That’s not very leaderly.”

Lio shrugged again. “My dear Number-Two-in-Command, there are some mysteries I must share with you, and they aren’t always happy things.”

“Boo…”

“It’s cute that you call it magic though. You’re into the old hero tales, aren’t you? Of dragons and knights?”

“Of course!” Gueira stated. “I mean I can’t understand why more people don’t call it magic. _Mutation_ is such a bullshit term.”

“A term of oppression, for sure.” Lio snuggled in sleepily, wrapping his arms around Gueira’s larger one and reveling in the shared heat. “But it doesn’t matter. No matter how long we live, no matter what this mutation does in the long run…we’ll build a home for the Burnish. An oasis, to rival Babylon and London, where we won’t be persecuted, only loved and educated and advanced.”

Gueira sucked in a deep breath. “I hope it’s as beautiful as you.”

Lio chuckled. He was idly petting Gueira’s bicep, where his hand had fallen. “You’re such a gentle soul,” he remarked after a time, almost breathlessly. “I’m glad our paths intersected.”

“Nah,” Gueira deflected, shifting to nuzzle into Lio’s neck. “I’m just a screwup and a gang banger, I’m not good for much.”

“You’re not a screwup,” Lio insisted, surprised. “You’re alive and you genuinely care about helping people. You even have the power to back it up. I think that means you’re an incredible success, in the apocalypse.”

Gueira didn’t say anything, but snugged him close, both in arm and leg and overall slowly eclipsing him. To Lio’s surprise, after a little time, he heard the telltale sound of sniffles against his neck.

“I miss my mom,” Gueira choked around a sob.

Lio wasn’t sure what to say to that, because he couldn’t really empathize. He knew what it was like to want a mother _worth_ missing, but those were not the same thing. Instead, he made a soothing noise and turned on his side, sheltering Gueira in his arms. “I bet she would want you to be happy, hm?” he whispered into his thick hair. “So you’re doing just fine.”

That was when he started to cry in earnest. But Lio didn’t mind. This was part of his job, and part of his own happiness—being a support for someone who cared about him.

So as his lover wept, holding onto him desperately, he made sure to give him all the tender kisses he could in the warm darkness that was lit only by Gueira’s sweet Burnish fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promare has a Kink Meme now! You should check it out for smut even wilder than this one!
> 
> https://madkinkyburnish.dreamwidth.org/277.html


End file.
